But London saw another sight When she, our Liege, recovered quite, Came, on a morning clear and bright, Through arches, flags, and greenery. To where the new Law Courts were made, Attended by a cavalcade. O, how the English crowd hoorayed! And all was joy and revelry. Then shook the sky with thunder riven, For never heartier cheers were given, As through the streets the Queen was driven, Attended by her soldiery. * * * * * The longest and most important work (by many also considered the finest) of Alfred Tennyson is the collection of Arthurian Idyls, known as the _Idyls of the King_. These were originally published in detached parts, in somewhat irregular order, but in recent editions the Author has striven to arrange them in a consecutive and more connected form. The first to appear in order of date was the _Morte d'Arthur_, which was published in the 1842 volume, in the later arrangement of the poems this has been absorbed into the last Idyl, entitled "_The Passing of Arthur_." In the original it commenced thus:-- "So all day long the noise of battle roll'd Among the mountains by the winter sea; Until King Arthur's table, man by man, Had fall'n in Lyonness about their Lord, King Arthur; then because his wound was deep, The bold Sir Bedivere uplifted him, Sir Bedivere, the last of all his knights, And bore him to a chapel nigh the field, A broken chancel with a broken cross, That stood on a dark strait of barren land. On one side lay the Ocean, and on one Lay a great water, and the moon was full. Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere: "The sequel of to-day unsolders all The goodliest fellowship of famous knights Whereof this world holds record. Such a sleep They sleep--the men I loved. I think that we Shall never more, at any future time, Delight our souls with talk of knightly deeds, Walking about the gardens and the halls Of Camelot, as in the days that were. I perish by this people which I made,-- Tho' Merlin sware that I should come again To rule once more--but let what will be, be, I am so deeply smitten through the helm That without help I cannot last till morn. Thou, therefore, take my brand Excalibur, Which was my pride: * * * * * take Excalibur, And fling him far into the middle mere: Watch what thou seest, and lightly bring me word." This mission was distasteful to Sir Bedivere, who exclaims:--